


The Collector

by MyrJuhl



Category: 30 Seconds to Mars, Incubus (Band)
Genre: Adult Content, Crossover, Enchanting circumstances, F/M, M/M, Paranormal, creaturefic, wing fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 20:51:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 19,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4407239
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyrJuhl/pseuds/MyrJuhl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brandon’s life is pretty good. He’s somewhat of a celebrity but at the same time a respected and popular artist running a popular workshop and a mentor for promising artists.</p><p>However, when he gets home in the evening he’s just an ordinary nerd who collects nerdy stuff. He’s not romantically involved in anything but his hobby.</p><p>That changes the day he not only finds the perfect little figurine to add to his collection, but also the perfect little boyfriend he always dreamed of meeting.</p><p>And of course, that’s when the spooky stuff starts to happen and slowly Brandon thinks he’s losing his mind, when he is subjected to paranormal occurrences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Collector

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: These events never happened. This fic is for entertainment purposes only, not profit. I, the author, make no claim through this work as to the fictional characters/ actual lives/ preferences/ activities of the people mentioned herein. 
> 
> Beta: Suda Pigrafool. *Thanks for your incredible input <3 *
> 
> This was originally written and published on Livejournal in 2008.

☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼

Brandon Boyd sat on the table watching his students having a great time drawing each other. Sipping some coffee, he glanced at the clock on the wall. He had to watch the time so he wouldn’t end up running late. His younger brother Jason had arranged a double date. He loved doing that just as much as Brandon hated him doing it, but he never told him no. Otherwise, Brandon figured he’d just be sitting at home alone, lost in his favourite activities.

Brandon was a successful art connoisseur and agent, who sponsored young artists like himself and help published their work. He also gave them a chance to develop their talent in his combined workshop and gallery. It was a popular place that mostly looked like a coffee shop, however, the coffee was free. He had an uncanny eye for quality and his protégés never failed to deliver products of high quality. 

Brandon himself was an established and popular artist, but professional success alone didn’t make him a happy person when he came home in the evening and shut the door behind him. Within the sanctuary of his own four walls, he was a different person. His flamboyant public persona disappeared while he allowed his natural, more relaxed and reserved personality to express itself for a few precious hours before he was _on_ again at work.

In addition to the active passion for art he lived out at work, Brandon had a different private passion at home. He collected figurines of angels. Despite being an artist, the only works of art dominating his walls and shelves were representations of angels. 

His brother felt uneasy whenever he visited him, and Brandon never brought dates home, because he was aware of the effect the overwhelming presence of angels had on other people, but he thrived in the presence of their pristine beauty surrounding him. He had collected angels for as long as he could remember. In the beginning, it was pretty bookmarks and cards he had in a folder sorted alphabetically by the name of the angels. It wasn’t the sort of collection you could swap with your friends to gain new images, but his mother took him to special little shops where he could enrich his assortment and the thrill of any new acquirement almost equalled getting a new toy. 

When he got older, Brandon added figurines, statues, books, paintings, icons, or the like to his collection including the art pieces he created by himself. His favourites were the small figurines. He liked being able to hold the 3-dimensional pieces in his hands. When he turned them in every direction, he was able view them from many perspectives. The figurines had a profoundly calming effect on his soul and made him feel rejuvenated by the experience of regarding and handling his angels.

He was determined to gather at least one specimen of every angel known to mankind and, for the most part, could tell who the angel was from its attributes and features when he found a new one. With his rather extensive collection begging for more items, Brandon loved browsing flea markets in search of rare finds to add to his private holdings. 

Brandon had lived on his own for a few years. Pushing his thirties, he found that the few relationships he’d had quickly died, because they never felt right for him. The type of boyfriend that would appeal to Brandon, and keep him spellbound, didn’t seem to exist. 

Recently, a few of the guys who frequented his studio did catch his interest from time to time, but Brandon’s attention span was disastrous and he lost interest pretty quickly. So these days, the only sex he had was due to the social events he attended were when Jason fixed him up with one-night stands. In order not to become a dinosaur, he indulged Jason more often than he actually felt like, when his younger sibling pretended to help Brandon tying the knot before turning thirty, which, unfortunately, was going to happen next year. So, obviously, Jason was in a hurry and in his perspective, the clock was ticking and there was no time to lose... Brandon smiled. Well, Jason meant it well.

“I gotta go,” Brandon said to the group of kids working away in deep concentration. One of the older students was entrusted with the key and would lock up the gallery at closing time. Quickly, Brandon checked his appearance in the mirror hanging on one of the walls. Brandon had the kind of unassuming personality that made him blissfully unaware of his own casual beauty, which only served to make him more attractive to others.

“Go kill’em, tiger,” one of the girls said with a laugh.

Brandon narrowed his eyebrows. “Sure,” he mumbled and flashed her a feeble smile. Grabbing his coat, he decided he would have to do. He was late, had no time to change, and honestly couldn’t care less. 

Later that evening, sitting at the table in the bar, Brandon tried to gain eye contact with Jason, and while at the same time hoping not to look too bored with his date chatting nonsense next to him. Thank god it was a round table, because Brandon had had enough of her hand’s wandering to his crotch during dinner in the adjacent restaurant. Yes, for some reason, Jason had fixed him up with a girl, in spite of him knowing that Brandon was gay. It happened occasionally.

When the girl asked if he wanted to dance, Brandon felt it was time to call it a night. He wouldn’t be able to stand another half hour of pointless groping on the dance floor, and on top of that, having to endure Jason’s snickering ‘thumbs up’ signals the entire time. “I’m sorry, but I’m not really feeling up to it. So why don’t I drive you home, and...”

“Ooooh!” came the collective tuts, interrupting him. Brandon smiled sheepishly. The thing was that Brandon did recognise that for any average _heterosexual_ business man, the evening’s activities would represent an opportunity to relax, have fun, and get laid, and any other day he would fit that prescription. Nevertheless, he held toward the excuse he turned to in certain cases – like tonight – that he was tired because of his job. And not even the prospect of getting laid with his date could make him stay. But he didn’t voice that of course, but had ‘she’ been a ‘he’, the circumstances would had been in Brandon’s favour and he might have stayed for the rest of the evening including the benefits.

Shooting Jason ‘the look’, Brandon got up. Jason loved to see Brandon squirm and he had done nothing but squirm all evening, as he tried to avoid her inquisitive fingers on his fly.

“I don’t wanna go now! I’m having fuuun,” the girl said, trying to charm her very handsome, very tall date one last time. She sighed, finding his soft dark eyes and wavy mane irresistible, but there was no spark.

“I’m sorry, but I have to... um go, now, so...” Brandon got up, and put some bills on the table, which his brother then pushed back toward him again. Brandon turned to look at the girl. “Cab money, for you,” he said with a big smile, and she had no reservations about taking it.

Wishing everybody a pleasant night, Brandon hurried toward the exit sighing with relief. Standing outside, he smiled a little. Tomorrow was Saturday. Walking down the street, his mood perked, considerably. Saturday meant flea market day, and that was one of his favourite things to do. Browsing front yards filled with forgotten little gems and attic treasures was the next best thing besides sitting at home and enjoying his angels.

☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼

Later that night, Brandon lay in bed stroking his cock, languidly. Hot tingles covered his skin in goose bumps as he let in the vision of a gorgeous face, imagining he was thrusting into the sinfully, beautiful mouth of a gorgeous man with red, kiss swollen lips. It was a nightly occurrence when Brandon was in the private throes of passion accompanied only by his right hand. He was never sure if the face belonged to one of his angels or if he just remembered a face in the crowd as he walked by in the street. However, never shy of fantasising about having sex with one of his angels, he smiled as heat built up in his sex. Their androgynous bodies and faces turned him on as well as feeling like real people, and it was only a harmless vision anyway. As it were, Brandon wasn’t into wings on the creatures, or the degrading and defilement of their purity. It was hugely part of his attraction.

When his pleasure gradually built up, his chosen angel for tonight wasn’t that innocent anymore, but then Brandon had never believed for a second that angels were completely innocent. The serene, yet willing face centred him as he approached his completion. Piercing bright orbs looked back at him in his mind’s eye. The intensity of the blue colour was extraordinary, begging him to come undone, and the blowjob scene changed immediately, leaving Brandon on top. As Brandon pushed the beautiful imaginary creature’s knees to his chest, he reduced him to a moaning mess. Pounding blissfully into his body, Brandon laboured energetically for the highest gratification for the both of them.

Twin nipples rose small and hard from Brandon’s chest as his powerful orgasm swept over him. Bending his long legs, he planted the soles of his feet on the mattress, as his hand sheaved his cock repeatedly. Moonbeams shining through the window reflected on his skin as muscles contracted all over his body in rapture.

Coming down from his high, the alluring angel disappeared from his mind, and Brandon couldn’t remember his face that had been so vivid a moment ago.

 _“Lucifer, you dirty boy!”_ Brandon groaned out loud. Lucifer had a way of stirring the surface of clarity. Brandon had no business with the most famous of fallen Angels. Nevertheless, the fact that he was turned on by angels was interesting in itself, but he wasn’t going to rationalise why he thought that. Grinning, he had always refrained from using Lucifer in his sexual fantasies. Who knew what power the angel had, and what if he was able to personify the carnal invitation? In a way, it would be pretty cool to have sex with Lucifer, but with him, there was always a catch, wasn’t there? The consequences of such a bargain were never on the angel’s side. The poor sucker who made a deal with him always paid for his sins. Of course, Satan didn’t really care about how humans fornicate, but humans did and that was his power.

So, at this point, Brandon’s opinion of the matter on angels’ purity wasn’t completely clear when it came to it. Some of the angels had conniving virtues that easily could be perceived as rather sexual, but of course the Church would deny that any day. Maybe with the exception of Satan, but Brandon had already discussed that. 

Putting the tempting, yet irrational thoughts aside, Brandon sat half up. He discovered the bottle of hand cream he dropped on the floor, and reminded himself to put it away in the bedside drawer. The last thing he needed was his brother to find it and come up with witty remarks. Needing to take a leak, he got out of bed and went to the bathroom before he settled down to sleep.

☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼

The next day, as Brandon slowly cruised one of his favourite flea markets, he smiled at how content this truly made him. Not long after, he stopped at a table. The stall owner was new; he’d never seen her before. They exchanged a smile and, systematically, Brandon went through her things.

“I’m sorry if I come on as a gold digger,” Brandon apologised.

“That’s all right, dear. There hasn’t been anyone else to look yet,” the lady said.

“Really?” Brandon asked, surprised. Her stuff wasn’t much different from the rest and flea market people loved going through old things.

Brandon looked at her and they smiled again. She was the grandmother type. Those with the interesting attic rubbish in need of a thorough clean out. Her eyes had a little twinkle to them, and Brandon looked away. He had a strange but good feeling about this table. His eyes searched more thoroughly, but there was nothing he wanted here. He was almost sad to go. 

“Is this all you have?” he finally asked.

“Well what are you looking for?” the lady asked, kindly.

“I’m not sure. I just thought I saw something, but I must have imagined things. I like angels.” He shrugged and she smiled at him. Oh, this was a tough one. Nobody else had shown interest in her things and he liked her. He didn’t like to just leave without at least buying something.

“Well my table is filled up as you can see, but I have a few things in this box. Maybe you’d like to have a look?” the lady offered.

“Sure,” Brandon shrugged, politely. She had that strange smile in her eyes again, and Brandon had to cover his mouth with his hand to hide a smirk. Was she flirting with him?

The lady pointed at a cardboard box on a stack of old magazines, the little smile still tugging at the corner of her eye.

Brandon’s brows furrowed at her for a few seconds. He had seen that box and it contained nothing that he wanted, either, but he indulged her. After all, she had once been fond of these things. 

Then the old lady fetched something from the box and, when Brandon saw what she held in her hands, he had to restrain the urge to support her in case she dropped it. He was sure it hadn’t been in the box earlier, and it was too big to have been hidden under something else. Then Brandon stopped delving on it and instead concentrated on the most gorgeous porcelain figurine he’d ever seen of a young, and very naked, angel. Quite unorthodox in every way, but he needed to examine it more closely as soon as it was his.

“It’s heavier than it looks,” the lady said. “It’s the only one there is. It’s a family piece that has been handed down for many, many years.”

“Really? Don’t you have someone in the family who would like to care for it?” Brandon asked. 

“No. Not anymore,” the lady said.

“Well, what is it?” Brandon played along.

“I’ve never been sure,” the lady replied. “A doll, probably? I used to dress him up when I was a girl,” she said with a laugh and winked. Well, there was real hair glued to the spectacular piece, so it was natural to assume that it was a toy, but Brandon knew better.

“Looks a bit chipped on the wings there, m’am, but I’ll give you... ten dollars, what do you say?” The wings weren’t chipped at all, but she didn’t even check to see if he was right.

“Well, I suppose that’s a good price. After all, I’m just... passing on... some old things in the hope someone else can have a use for them,” the lady said softly, not even bargaining for more. Brandon felt like ripping her off as he counted the money and handed it to her, but offering more now would seem strange and she seemed happy to sell it to him. Then she motioned to wrap it for him.

 _Put it down gently!_ Brandon could hardly stand the way her hands were shaking, as she wrapped the old angel in a newspaper, where after the transaction was finished. 

“There you go. It’s nice he’ll have a home where he’s welcome,” she said. 

Brandon nodded a ‘thank you’ where after he left. Turning to see if she was still happy about having sold it to him, he couldn’t detect her right away behind the stand. Some guy stood there now, so Brandon assumed he had relieved her for a break. Then he forgot all about it, protectively tucked his prize into the crook of his arm, and hurried home. Brandon could hardly wait to get back and examine his purchase under the magnifying glass.

The minute he was home, Brandon put the package on the table in his study and went to fix something to eat and drink. He knew he’d forget all about time once he began studying the new piece, so, he thought it would be a good idea to have a few sandwiches ready for later. He filled a thermos with coffee and then he took everything back into the study. Pouring coffee into a mug, Brandon took a little sip, and then forgot all about it when he sat down and carefully unwrapped the angel. He had tears in his eyes when the exquisite details were revealed. Gently, he placed it on a corduroy foam-padded board he had on the table to stabilise his work, and just gazed at it. The figurine was standing on its little pedestal, arms resting along its sides just staring back at Brandon with eyes so blue it was unreal that someone could paint them so vividly. He had the softest hair glued to his skull and, with his little finger; Brandon reached out and carefully touched it. It was human hair, and he smiled thinking about who had sacrificed their hair to have it glued on such a small beautiful thing. 

Brandon’s eyes slid lower because the most interesting thing about this little guy was that he was anatomically correct; he even had tiny curls glued on as pubic hair. Brandon grinned. “Naughty girl,” he said, because the logical explanation had to be that some girl had fabricated all of this to make the ‘doll’ look as real as possible. For all he knew, it could have been the old lady who sold it to him, who had made this.

Brandon put his glasses on to have a thorough look. Selecting a soft brush, Brandon began to carefully whisk away the accumulated dust and grime blemishing the angel’s smooth surface. Gently, he swiped with a soft sponge and, eventually, the figurine was clean. His porcelain ‘skin’ seemed a little translucent with an almost inner glow that only added to Brandon’s fascination with this particular piece.

Brandon adjusted his chair and studied the details better under the magnifying glass. Afterwards he used a special laser that would reveal if the figurine had ever been broken. However, the astonishing conclusion was that there were no traces of glue to indicate this, not even for the hair. 

“That’s not possible...” Brandon murmured. Turning the object in his hands, Brandon lifted the long dark hair cascading down the porcelain back and wings. The hairline above the neck was just as snug as the one along his forehead and ears. More intriguing facts were revealed as he continued using the laser, scanning the little angel for material contents. The inner core was fired clay, and then a layer of glass and finally the porcelain shell; one layer much older than the next. No wonder he was so heavy to carry.

“You’re a mystery, aren’t you?” Brandon said softly as he turned the angel back round. Looking into the blue eyes to get an answer, he just had to smile at how expressive they were, like the angel understood what he said to him. “Who are you, I wonder?” for once, Brandon had no immediate clue. He grabbed one of his books on the subject and browsed for a while, pondering. There were still plenty of angels he didn’t have in his collection, and one of those was the masculine _Iofiel_. His reference books described Iofiel as the Angel of Beauty, and Brandon decided it couldn’t be anybody else. Every description of Iofiel Brandon came across fit the boy angel like a glove. 

“Boy?” Brandon shook his head. Iofiel might look like a boy, but he was ancient old, wasn’t he? Only his looks betrayed him.

Stepping over to a large glass case he had positioned in the back of the room where he kept his small pieces like figurines, travel sized icons and so on, Brandon made a space for Iofiel right in the middle and put him there. The display case was custom made and rather large. It was made of wood and painted ebony white. There were no carvings other than a profile along the front part of the body. One half of the space was reserved for taller pieces like the figurines and the other half had extra shelves for the icons. There was no lid to the showcase, because Brandon didn’t like the idea of the angels being trapped.

The angel’s aura of mystery remained with him all evening and several times, Brandon had to take Iofiel down to restudy details like the hair and eyes. In the end, he just had to put him back in his place, and simply accept how cleverly the figurine was crafted. He was so grateful that he was the one who now owned him. 

With a smile, Brandon finally called it a night. He took off his glasses, turned off the light, and went to bed.

Darkness surrounded the little angel as he stood on his modest pedestal among his old heavenly relatives. A little happy smile emerged on his lips and his eyes shone with a different light as he took in the surroundings of the study.

☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼

"Look dude, the missus and I kinda don't have space for you any longer. I did say you could stay for a few weeks, but as it is, it looks like you're planning on staying for longer."

Jared looked up from the washing he was doing and narrowed his eyes. "Sure, Porq."

"Was great having you Jay, but in a week... You're out."

Jared nodded. It was cool. Porq was an asshole, but at least Jared had a place to sleep for another week. He was now in a desperate need of a place to stay and finding a job. Not necessarily in that order.

He'd come to Los Angeles with the classic dream to become an artist hoping to find work as a model maker or painting background mats for theatre or maybe even motion pictures. He'd studied intensive art for a few years back in Louisiana and had provided a theatre background scenery pieces for a couple of seasons. This was what he wanted to do with his art and Hollywood was his goal. 

One of his old friends from college, Porq, had moved to L.A. and when he called him to ask if he could help him in transitioning to the city of angels, the guy was forthcoming enough and offered Jared a place to stay 'until he got on his feet'. Unfortunately, Porq had gotten himself a girl friend a few days prior to Jared's arrival and, instead of a new place to stay, Jared was greeted with a warning to get out.

So far, he hadn't found a job. One didn't exactly die from the cold living in Los Angeles, so he knew he'd survive without a roof over his head, but he had to get a job. With money, the prospect of finding lodgings was infinitely better.

Jared spent many hours a day searching for a job, but after a week of futile job interviews he was getting pretty desperate not to end up on the beach penniless as well as homeless. He could wind up in jail for vagrancy that way. Fuck Porq to hell. Picking up the newspaper, he sat down to look through some more Help Wanted ads. They needed a bag boy down at the local supermarket. With the right clothes he could pass for a young man. He ripped the page out and left immediately. 

When he arrived at the store, though, the manager told him that the position had already been taken, but the new guy wasn’t scheduled to start until tomorrow. He was able to offer Jared the job for just one day. Jared fluffed his bangs and said yes. It was a job, and so he bagged groceries the entire day. His arms ached and, though he should have been grateful at least having had the job, toward the end of his shift, he was glad that he wasn’t keeping this job because it sucked lifting all those groceries. 

About half an hour before the store closed, Jared overheard a couple of guys discussing a workshop they were heading to afterwards. Catching the essentials, Jared quickly realised that this was the kind of place he would like to visit. By now, he knew that he gained nothing by not asking, so he approached the customers and asked directly, “What kind of workshop is it? Can anybody attend?”

“Sorry dude. Brandon Boyd picks his artists himself.”

Jared knew that Brandon Boyd was an acclaimed artist, and he had to get his foot inside somehow, if there was the slightest possibility to tag along people with influence. “But will he at least consider people if they approach him?”

The students shrugged. Obviously, they had no clue. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt if you stopped by to have a look,” one of them said and gave him the address. Quickly, Jared thanked him and returned to bagging before the manager noticed he had been missing.

When the supermarket closed, and as soon as he had his pay cheque, Jared hurried to get to the workshop. With his kind of luck lately, all he needed was for it to close, too, before he even got there, but he couldn’t afford to take the bus to save time. However, when he finally arrived, the shop was still open. Activity thrived all over the place, and his first impression was that it looked inviting. Then his eyes fell on the man himself. Brandon Boyd. 

Jared had often seen his face from magazines and papers, and always thought the man was good looking, but nothing came close to seeing him in the flesh. Everything about him compelled Jared, and he had to swallow as his eyes had their fill of the handsome celebrity’s graceful movements and kind demeanour.

☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼

Looking up, Brandon noticed a good-looking kid standing outside, staring in through the window with such longing and hope. He got up, went to the door, and opened it. “Hey. Can I help you?” he asked with a distracted smile.

“Mr. Boyd, please hear me out. I’m an artist. I heard about your place, so I thought I’d stop by if you don’t mind?” the kid replied as he peered up earnestly seeking eye contact. 

Brandon felt a heady sensation sweep through his system. His cock twitched excitedly at the sight of the kid’s gorgeous face. His eyes were stunning and drew him in inexcusably. Brandon’s eyes wandered to his mouth only intensifying his physical attraction. All he was thinking about right then was what sex would be like with the hot little guy in front of him. He had to look away from the positive gaze that settled on the younger man’s face and school his expression.

Coughing, Brandon hoped he didn’t look anything like what he was thinking and tried to remember what he’d been asked and failed spectacularly, “What?” That wasn’t very intelligent, but Brandon’s brain still hadn’t left sex land. It had been a while since he’d responded so helplessly to another man.

“Do you accept more students?” the question fell promptly.

Brandon smiled self-consciously. “How old are you?” he managed to ask, still not able to stop his eyes from roaming over the guy’s frame. He shouldn’t really drool over some minor piece of delectable meat, but how could he not? He shouldn’t, but wow...

“I’m twenty-six,” the response fell prompt.

“No shit?” Brandon replied just as fast in surprise. No problem then and his interest was quickly rekindled now the most important ethical obstacle was cleared out of the way. The guy did look deceptively youthful, but then some kids did when they were as androgynous as this one was. 

Nodding to assure he was still mentally present, Brandon asked, “Okay. So you’re an artist?”

The guy scratched his head. “Um, yeah. I’m looking for a workshop. Well, I’m looking for work, actually, and...” 

He stopped talking, and Brandon knew he had been staring at him non-stop and still managed to make him uncomfortable. Finally hearing what he was being asked, he stressed, “I’m not looking for help at the moment. We all give a hand around here because it’s for free.”

“It is?” the man asked with anticipation. Obviously, he had hoped for a job.

Brandon knew it would be a bad idea to have him close on a daily basis. The last thing he needed was a sexual relationship with a student who thought he could sleep his way into getting a chance. However, of course all it would take was for Brandon to stop it before that even became an issue. Brandon groaned inwardly because, in this particular case, what he wanted was the opposite. How could he take this professionally, when the guy was such turn on? 

Then his mind returned to the present and it always haunted Brandon when he could tell how needy an artist looked when he yearned for a place to hang out. He would have to ignore the sexual chemistry, and how right it felt. It was unethical, but Brandon would fail the test before he even started. He already took the first step on the path, when he stood aside to let the kid in. “What’s your name?” he asked, smiling.

“Jared. Jared Leto.”

“Well, just call me Brandon, all right?”

“All right. I gotta tell you. Your work is awesome, man.”

“Thanks,” Brandon responded a little flustered, never having been comfortable accepting praise no matter how popular his work had become. “Would you like something to eat?” he asked. The guy looked good but he also looked skinny in the tight jeans and open plaid shirt over a white tank top.

“If you don’t mind then. I’m hungry all right,” Jared responded, but he seemed nervous when the other students showed signs of clearing away for the day and bringing their cups to the coffee counter in the corner of the gallery.

Brandon smiled at him. “Don’t mind them. Would you like a sandwich? I have an extra,” Brandon assured him. Going around the counter, he went to grab his spare from a shelf on the wall and gave it to Jared, smiling sheepishly. By now, it looked a bit squished, but Jared didn’t seem to mind.

Shortly after, they sat together on top of the counter, facing the now empty gallery and small talked. As Jared relaxed a bit, he told Brandon what he had done in art school back home. The way he described his stuff, Brandon knew he wanted to see it and told him.

“Where do you keep it?”

“At a friend’s where I’m staying at the moment, but he’s asked me to find somewhere else to stay.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. His girlfriend got in the way of my plans, so I’m the unwanted third wheel.”

“Happens all the time.”

“Yeah, but I have to find a solution.”

“Well, I can keep your stuff here for you, if you’d like.”

“Thanks, man! That would be great. I’ll bring it along tomorrow.”

“Great!” Brandon smiled brightly and got an equally relieved and excited grin from Jared. Simultaneously, they looked away and Brandon bit his lip. How he’d missed this feeling of excitement from being attracted to someone else. He almost felt high... well dizzy. He almost felt dizzy from adrenaline from how unexpectedly arousing Jared was to him.

Jared chuckled but then his expression grew serious. “Well, it’s probably not beyond my friend to sell my portfolio to make the rent. The sooner the better I can stash it here works for me.” He pointed to the door. “I’d better head back. It’s getting late and his girlfriend gets a hissy fit if I come home late...”

“I understand,” Brandon interrupted the apologetic speech. “Want a ride?” he offered him. “I happened to take my car today. I rarely do.”

Jared nodded. “Yeah, for sure. I’m so grateful for all this.”

Brandon felt extra charitable toward the beautiful Jared and blurted out, “I can arrange an exhibition for you, if you’re good. There are a lot of things I can do to help, but I can better determine that when I see your stuff tomorrow, Jared.”

“Thanks, really, Brandon. I’m curious what you’ll think about it. I’m a little old-fashioned in style.” Jared jumped down, and Brandon followed.

“Okay. Sounds great,” Brandon replied. For several moments, they just stood in front of each other looking goofily at one another. The chemistry between them was thick. 

Then Brandon broke the spell. “Why don't I lock up the shop and then we can go?”

“Sounds great,” Jared said.

They went to Brandon’s car that was parked outside. As they walked, they gravitated toward each other and their hands brushed a few times. Brandon felt electric and wished he could just ask Jared back to his house, but because it had been so long, he still didn’t want to assume anything. Better see how things went between them tomorrow. Then he would definitely make his move.

The ride went by pretty fast, when they talked some more about what Jared had done in the past. Brandon could forget his attraction for a while and he was in a fantastic mood because he sensed Jared was giving him the same positive vibes.

“... so theatres are what I’d most like to do... Um you can just stop here,” Jared interrupted himself midsentence. They were a couple of blocks from the street he initially had told Brandon he lived on.

“It’ll probably be easier for you if I just get out here on the corner,” Jared added, looking embarrassed.

Immediately, Brandon caught the drift and didn’t ask further questions. It wasn’t the first time a student didn’t want to be taken to the door in this neighbourhood. “Take care,” he said softly, looking forward to seeing him soon. 

Jared took his time smiling at him before he stepped out of the car. 

“Drop in again whenever you feel like it, Jared.”

“You’ll see me tomorrow already, remember?” 

“That’s right,” Brandon replied and smiled at him.

Jared grinned and shut the door.

Brandon watched him for a moment as he walked down the street. He looked so beautiful and vulnerable. So young... Brandon shook his head. Okay – there wasn’t that much difference in their ages. Three or four years, but Brandon had accomplished so much since he’d left art school that everyone else seemed so much younger by comparison. Jared was a desperate artist who badly needed change. 

Well, that’s what Brandon was there for. He just had to work hard to keep his mind and libido separated where Jared was concerned. Professional or not, Brandon was only human and from what he’d experienced tonight, he understood with clarity that he was lonely. He just hadn’t allowed his intellect to figure it out. That would make his brother smarter than he. How depressing.

There was a sudden, loud noise of vehicle brakes screeching and shocked, Brandon set the car into motion. He’d zoned out momentarily while he’d been thinking, but now his pulse was racing, fearing Jared had been involved in a car accident. But when he got to the scene, all he saw was a confused driver who stood in the street scratching his head. Brandon jumped out to join the few pedestrians who’d gathered, too. Dreading the worst, he approached the scene of the accident and hurried closer. 

When he reached the small group of people in the crosswalk, he put his hand over his mouth. There was blood on the car and the driver stood listlessly, explaining in a stunned voice what had happened. Brandon grabbed his arm and told him to sit down. “Who did you hit?” he asked, worriedly.

“Some guy. I’m so fucking sure I hit a young guy, but he’s nowhere!” the man said distraught and pointed toward his car.

“You sure hit something,” someone else said. 

“I hit him and-and he flew into the air and landed _behind_ me, you see. I hit the brakes immediately. You gotta believe me!” the man sobbed and pleaded. “I’m on my way home. I was in a hurry. I didn’t see him until I hit him.”

Brandon stood up and scanned the area. There was no blood trail other than on the front of the car where there was a considerable indention of the hood. Bending his knees, Brandon looked under the car. Nothing. 

Brandon had that gut wrenching feeling of worry in his stomach. If Jared was the one who had been hit, which he feared was likely, where the fuck was he?

Brandon said he would take a look around in the area and got back into his car. There were too many people gathered by now anyway, and he heard an ambulance in the distance. After driving around for at least another hour, Brandon hadn’t been able to find any trace of the young man. He also asked a few people if they’d seen Jared, but the sad thing was that nobody cared. People would never admit to having seen anything even if it happened in broad daylight in their own front yard.

He wondered if he should call the hospital closest by to hear if a Jared had been brought in, but chances were that the medic arriving at the accident scene was already on it, since the driver clearly had hit something.

Distressed, Brandon went home and sat quietly on the couch in his living room. He should have been in his study, but he was too upset to enjoy that pleasure tonight. 

Some time went by as he thought about what had happened over the course of the evening. He’d managed to fall in love and most probably lose that love all within a few hours. 

Finally, he decided to go to his study after all, and the first thing he did was take Iofiel out of the glass case. He’d grown so attached to the little angel that he immediately felt a small smile part his lips just from looking at his sweet face.

“You’re a great comfort to me,” he whispered and touched Iofiel’s shiny dark hair. The tiny face seemed sad and his blue eyes were so especially expressive tonight. Brandon felt as if Iofiel understood what had happened.

“I lost him. I think he’s gone. Even though I love all of you angels, I’m not a religious man. Spiritual, yes...” Brandon told the figurine. He smiled a little and returned Iofiel to his shelf. “But please take care of his soul, whoever does that sort of thing out there.” 

Iofiel looked back at him with determined soulful eyes.

Brandon didn’t know what that was supposed to mean. He was too tired for guessing, turned his back to Iofiel, and went upstairs to go to bed.

☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼

During the night, Jared tried to wake up Porq when he knocked on the door. Where he had been in the meantime after the accident he couldn’t remember. The collision had caused injuries to his internal organs and brain. Some fractures that were not incapacitating with the serious head injury still confused his vision, awareness, and judgment. It was practically impossible for him to create much of an impact on the door to wake up his friend, but finally Porq’s girlfriend opened the door. When she saw Jared’s bruised face, she mistook it for the result of a fight, and didn’t realise how badly injured he truly was. No way was she letting him inside getting the place all dirty.

She hissed, “I don’t give a shit who you’ve been fighting with. You’re not making a mess around here. Go find yourself an ER or something, instead of waking up the entire neighbourhood.”

The door was slammed in his face, and Jared was so weak he had no response, verbally or physically. He ended up down on the street again and huddled about trying to stay out of the way. At some point, he found a deserted alley to hide in and sank down on the ground from sheer pain and exhaustion.

He lay looking up into the sky. It would soon be dawn and he wondered if he would be alive to witness it.

His eyes slipped closed and he thought he saw a warm light wrap around him. Serenity filled his soul, and he knew he didn’t have to fear where he was going.

Then he woke up.

☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼

Brandon got up around 6AM the next morning. Someone was knocking on his door instead of using the doorbell, which as such was a blessing. He had overslept and the time was closer to noon once he took a quick glance at the clock. Fumbling for his bathrobe, Brandon swayed a little as he got on his feet. Last night’s events came back, but he had to postpone dealing with them, because the knocking hadn’t ceased.

Looking into the little spy eye, he frowned. A young man stood outside, and he looked disturbingly familiar. Brandon opened the door and just stared at him. His visitor gasped surprised and stepped back one time.

Confused, Brandon realised that it was Jared. So many questions tumbled forward to be asked, but nothing happened when he tried to open his mouth. He just stood gaping like a fish trying to breathe.

Jared smiled that little insecure smile and he took a step forward. “Hi... I was wondering if you might have a job for me...”

“What!?” Brandon asked, and he looked carefully at Jared, but couldn’t detect any other injuries but a bump on the forehead and a few minor wounds on his chin and one elbow. To be honest, Jared actually looked fine. “What happened after you left my car? With the accident?”

Jared scratched his head. “Um... no? I don’t remember being in an accident,” he said even as he stood scratching at a scab. “I don’t think I’ve been in your car either, sir. You must have me confused with someone else.”

“Jared?” Brandon asked, because he wasn’t so sure anymore.

“Yeah? How did you know?” Jared asked and smiled surprised.

“Right...” Brandon frowned. Why didn’t Jared remember yesterday? “You know what? It’s probably that bump on your head that’s messing with your memory of yesterday. Never mind.”

“Maybe you need a housekeeper? Or something...?” Jared asked out of the blue and smiled brightly; trying to charm Brandon and he did a good job.

“Or something? Like yesterday. You also needed a job so nothing’s changed there,” Brandon mentioned and smiled helplessly back at the beautiful artist. It was surreal to have him back so effortlessly. Then he heard himself automatically give Jared the answer he wanted to hear, “Yeah. I think I could use a housekeeper.” 

Well, he needed Jared to stick around so he could find out more about what happened to him last night. Hopefully, Jared just suffered from a temporary memory loss.

“I-I was hoping I would get a room, like... a housekeeper should be able to be at your service here and now and so on...” Jared said, hesitatingly.

“You still need a room, right?”

“Yeah...” Jared burst out with relief. “As of now, I’m kicked out of my current place... so...”

“Jared, I just need to verify this, but have you ever seen me before?” Brandon asked.

“Um. No not personally. Not that I know of. I mean... I know who you are, Mr. Boyd, but I’ve never... you know.”

“Why have you come here precisely?”

“I just picked your house because it looked nice.”

“You chose my house because of what it looks like?”

Jared nodded with a little smile. “I’m very curious though, how you know my name?”

“Oh, it’s sort of a common housekeeper name, isn’t it?” Brandon smiled, and Jared grinned back, knowing he was just kidding.

“I appreciate that you trust me like this.”

Brandon knew it was insane, but he had no control over this. Jared was just as tempting as he had been last night. He should have been more upset than he was. However, he was just relieved to find that Jared was fine. His worries had been for nothing.

He really should contact the police to settle the matter with the driver, as well as finding a way to get Jared to see a doctor for his amnesia, but when he wanted to address the issue, it seemed so inconsequential and the idea was pushed out of his mind.

“Well, come inside,” he said instead, “I think we can stretch your duties to include the garden and such. You’re an artist, right? Since you know me...” he added to test Jared.

Jared nodded, his eyes widened as the tour around the house began. “You really dig angels, huh?”

Brandon nodded. “Yeah. You could say I’m passionate about them. But I don’t use them in my work.”

“No, I definitely would have noticed. I’m not into angels.” He quickly looked at Brandon. “But it’s cool that you are. Everything you do is cool. I’m a painter/sketching kind of guy.”

“Yeah?” Brandon smiled, because he already knew, of course. They stepped into the kitchen that dominated one part of the open lounge leading into the living room.

“Wow...” Jared said, as he stood by the tall windows offering a generous view of the neat small garden. “So colourful. Adventurous. I’m envious.” 

“You know anything about gardening, Jared?”

“Not a clue, Brandon,” Jared said and turned. “This one I can’t wait to get to know.” He pushed his hands into his back pockets. “So, where do I sleep?”

“Right. That is probably your biggest concern,” Brandon joked. He didn’t mind Jared sleeping over for a while. He doubted he was any use as a housekeeper or keeping anything in order as such. Artists were not practical people. They tended to create mess instead of keeping the clutter away. Mostly, Brandon longed to see was the level of his artistic skills. Anything beyond that thought Brandon would just have to wait for. Just his damn luck the accident came between them.

“You want me to clean all your angels?” Jared asked.

“No. You’d better not touch them. They’re irreplaceable if you break them.”

“I wouldn’t break them, Brandon,” Jared said. “I’m not a clumsy person.”

“Well, you just hit your head, so I’d say the odds for that to be true are not in your favour right now.”

Jared was about to protest against the hitting his head part when Brandon added, “Just to be safe. Potentially, things breaking accidentally are always a... variable. Should it happen anyway, it would be better I am the one breaking one, you know?” Brandon explained. “Anyway. Here is your room. I wasn’t expecting guests, so I use it for storage for the time being.”

“It’s okay. I don’t have any stuff to bring along anyway. I can just pretend this is mine,” Jared joked. 

“You’re so different from yesterday,” Brandon blurted out, because he was. This was not the Jared he’d chatted with yesterday. Yesterday, Jared had been such a turn on that Brandon had been swept off his feet trying to absorb how sexy he was. This Jared wasn’t and he wondered why that was so. 

“What do you mean? You honestly think we’ve met before?”

“We met yesterday at my gallery. You wanted to participate in the workshop. I drove you home, and... now you’re here.”

“You mentioned an accident? What was that all about?” Jared sat on the bed and looked up at him, and Brandon was once more reminded of how breathtaking Jared’s eyes were. 

In fact, it was eerie how much he reminded him of Iofiel, and then it dawned on him. Jared was so much alike Iofiel that there was no way he could be attracted to him. Despite angels were normally a turn on for him, Iofiel never turned him on. He was too pure. 

_FUCK!_ He didn’t have that angelic quality the day before. Yesterday, Jared had been just as sexually attracted to Brandon as he was. 

Of all the angels in the world, and Jared just had to remind him of Iofiel. He had been Brandon’s hope for a nice relationship and then Iofiel was going to ruin that. Jared was here. Jared was sitting on his bed, and Brandon’s cock didn’t even acknowledge that. He couldn’t quite believe how ridiculous it was.

“Brandon?” Jared snapped his fingers. “You there?”

Brandon smiled. “Sorry. Um... forget about it. It was nothing. Just something I saw in the paper. Your wounds must be from another occasion...” Brandon said, as he pointed to Jared’s chin.

Jared touched his chin but shrugged. “Where do you want me to start? I suppose you want me to start right away?”

“Actually,” Brandon for motioned him to stand up, “Why don’t you come with me to the workshop?”

Turning away to walk to the kitchen, Brandon didn’t see Jared lick his lips nervously. Darting a look toward the study, he then followed him to the kitchen.

“Did you have breakfast yet?” Brandon asked Jared when he entered the room.

“No. What are you offering?” Jared replied and smiled brightly, making Brandon a little flustered at the sudden come on. Jared cocked his head slightly and the smile lingered into a charming smirk.

“Um... well,” Brandon began, but he had no idea what to answer. Jared looked away and came to sit on one of the bar chairs next to the bar resembling counter. Brandon watched him. Something had changed within a few minutes. There were hints of the Jared from yesterday and it got to him immediately. And he enjoyed it.

Brandon dragged a few fingers through his hair, and the soft curls bounced back on his forehead. “You want pancakes?”

“Yeah,” Jared’s head bopped. “Pancakes are always welcome. You need some help?”

“You... you just stay put, Jared,” Brandon hurried to reply, but Jared got up nevertheless and went to stand next to him as Brandon reached for the cupboards in search of ingredients. He had turned down the charm, and Brandon was grateful for that. He went to fetch milk, flour, eggs, and butter. Within a few minutes, the dough was mixed, and soon the pan fried, busy producing their meal.

Jared set two plates on the counter and looked at Brandon’s back. “What confection do you have?”

Turning half, Brandon pointed to the corner of the counter. “Syrup, jam, cocoa butter cream.”

“Cocoa cream?”

“Nutella, whatever it’s called.”

“Got it,” Jared went and fetched the variety and brought it to the counter, too. “Coffee? Tea?”

“I drink coffee.”

“So do I,” Jared said and filled the electric kettle with water. 

Brandon had to hide a smile, because Jared did what he could to play a housekeeper, and he already moved around the place like he owned it.

“So what do I pay you to be my housekeeper? What kind of expenses do you need to pay for?” Brandon asked and whipped the last pancake on to a plate, put it on the counter, and joined Jared.

Jared shrugged and picked two pancakes, which he dropped on his plate. “So far, I don’t really have any,” Jared said and covered his pancakes with different types of toppings and rolled them. “I came to Los Angeles to get a job in production design. I hoped to get my foot inside Hollywood.”

“Making movies?”

“Yeah. Silly dream, but it can happen. Happens to somebody once in a while, so why not me?”

“At least you’re not trying to become an actor,” Brandon grinned, fetching breakfast himself.

Jared smiled. “Nah. I’m probably more comfortable behind the camera.”

“You’d make a stunning model, though,” Brandon blurted out. Both of them stopped breathing for a few seconds. “Um... I just mean that...”

“It’s okay,” Jared quickly interrupted. “I hear it often. I’m just not...”

“Comfortable, I get it. I was actually thinking about painting you...” Brandon stopped again. What was going on? He’d completely lost the ability to think first and talk later. Looking at Jared, he could relax though; the younger man had a sweet expression in his eyes.

“Really?” Jared led the fork to his mouth and took a bite of pancake, smiling as he slowly chewed. “You have the advantage here saying we’ve already met.” He pointed the fork at Brandon. “But, I trust that you already had that thought last night even if I can’t remember it?”

“Probably.”

“So it must be the accident we’re not talking about that is to blame?”

Brandon frowned. God it was getting more and more difficult to remember why it was so important to talk about the accident, so maybe he should postpone that and concentrate on simply enjoying that Jared was here and well under the circumstances. When he looked at Jared busy eating, his wounds didn't seem so prominent, basically fading, so it probably was just Brandon who made a big deal out of nothing.

Brandon rested his head in his hand and looked at Jared. “Look, since yesterday, I find that you make me very comfortable,” he finally admitted, enjoying the easy eye contact.

“Now that wasn’t difficult, was it?” Jared joked. “You can paint me in the work shop?” he suggested, taking another morsel and added a sip of coffee. 

“I’ll do that,” Brandon replied, softly.

“How do you want me?” Jared asked.

Brandon grinned, embarrassed. “Let’s decide that when we get around to it.” He picked at his pancake, not feeling hungry anymore. “You’re ready to go? Do you need to pick up your things?”

“No, I don’t really have anything.”

“Spare clothes?” Brandon sat up straight when he saw Jared’s eyes flicker.

“I don’t really have anything.”

“Did your friend sell your paintings after all?”

“Yes,” Jared said. “That’s exactly what he did.”

“What a jerk!” Brandon responded appalled.

“Yeah, that sums up his personality pretty much.”

“And you two used to be friends.”

“I’m glad I don't have to live there anymore. I didn't like his girlfriend.”

“Sometimes relationships changes people.”

“This one sure did. But I don’t have anything. Honestly.”

Brandon nodded. “Well, if the clothes you’re wearing are the only ones you own, then I suggest you get some clothes for your first pay check.”

“Um... could you pay me in cash? I don’t have a bank account... at least I don’t think so.”

Brandon was a little worried about him. “Jared, may I ask...”

“Please, don’t ask me,” Jared pleaded in a small voice, “Can we just go?”

Brandon got up and brought his plate and utensils to the sink. Jared put his next to them, and hesitated when Brandon still looked at him. “We’ll talk tonight. I promise,” Jared said, smiling his charming smile, and it grew brighter when Brandon responded.

“You have a car?”

Brandon shook his head as he went upstairs to his bedroom. “Yeah, but today we have to walk,” he called out and changed his clothes. When he got no response, he went in search for Jared and ended in his study. There was no sight of him, and Brandon frowned. “Jared?” 

Looking around once more just to make sure, he then caught sight of Iofiel. Smiling, he realised he’d not looked at him once this morning. Nearing him, he smiled at his precious. “I got him back. Now I just need not to rush things.” 

Iofiel’s hair moved and Brandon felt the draft. Maybe Jared was outside waiting for him. Caressing the fine-chiselled cheek, Brandon left his study afterwards.

Outside there was still no trace of Jared, but finally, the younger man came out to join him. 

“Where were you, man?” Brandon asked as they headed toward the city.

“In the bathroom. Did you mind?”

“Of course not. You live with me now, remember?” It wasn’t supposed to sound the way it came out, but Jared didn’t seem to notice.

“Then stop asking me as if I get lost in your house.” Jared quickly flashed him a grin, and Brandon smiled.

“Sorry. I seem to have forgotten your age. Forgive me.”

Jared waved his hand. “Doesn’t matter. As long as you don’t make me a lunch box, too.”

“Oh! But, wouldn’t that be lovely? I make really great lunch boxes.”

“It would, actually,” Jared responded. Their smiles couldn’t have been broader.

The walk to work took less time now they had a lively conversation going, and Brandon felt they were back to where they were yesterday. The discussions jumped in topic along with the nice flirt building up between them. Occasionally, Jared still seemed to back off, if Brandon came on too strong. But at this point, Brandon was so enamoured with him, thriving on the adrenaline rush only a true crush could give somebody. 

Opening the shop, Brandon went about setting things up. Jared made coffee, and helped with other practical chores. It was Friday, and some of the young artists had projects they needed to finish for a show Brandon helped arranging. He was happy to assist, and his opinion weighed heavily for the final result. 

A few recognised Jared from yesterday, and Brandon noticed how he naturally melted into the group and became a part of it. In fact, Jared helped some of the students, and discretely, Brandon stepped closer to watch. The young artist who was in need of help gazed in awe as Jared with simple strokes on a clean canvas using procedures and layers, even Brandon had never used before. He’d seen it in textbooks on the technique of classic renaissance painters, but it wasn’t just methods, it also was how the colours were blended. No painter that Brandon had ever come across had painted so flawlessly, timelessly, and Brandon began asking Jared questions, too. 

Soon, most of the students were gathered around Jared’s easel. However, his ‘housekeeper’ began to act uncomfortable when the questions became too personal, like who had been his tutor? Where did he learn this and the likes, so Brandon broke up the crowd. 

“All right, guys. Back to your own projects.” But when he directed his attention to Jared’s canvas. he asked quietly, “Being this good, Jared, you must have work stashed somewhere.”

“I don’t.”

“I don’t believe you. You could have an exhibition tomorrow and all your stuff would be sold before the day was over. You could make a lot of money, Jared.”

The young man turned. “Really?” Disbelief evident in his eyes.

“You really don’t know how good you are? This ‘practise’ piece here,” Brandon pointed at the canvas Jared had used to help the other student with, “is good enough to sell.” Brandon kept his voice down, although he added an incredulous tone to it. 

“Brandon... I really really don’t have stuff to show you. Whatever I once had is gone now. Accept that. But I’ll gladly paint here. I love it.”

Brandon smiled. “Good. You just make sure you do that. Because that is amazing work.” Then he stepped a little closer and Jared lowered his eyes before he looked up again.

“What?”

Brandon’s eyes darted to either side to gauge if they were watched. They weren’t. “Remember that I could paint you today?”

“Now?” Jared responded almost in a husky low voice. 

Brandon cocked his head, gazing completely infatuated back at Jared, forgetting they weren’t alone. “Now,” he said.

“How do you want me?” Jared whispered.

“Naked...” Brandon suggested, at this point beyond caring that his brain was miles behind his mouth, “With a loin cloth or something.”

“How will you provide my ‘costume’,” Jared teased, stepping closer to Brandon who just smirked back, because they were almost touching each other now. Suddenly, Jared turned and went to the counter. People were staring at them. 

Brandon ran a few fingers through his hair and smiled self-consciously at the nosy crowd, who quickly went back to minding their own business. Detecting whispers here and there, Brandon felt his face turn red, and he decided to leave the shop to get some fresh air. 

Half an hour later, Brandon returned and the picture hadn’t changed, except now Jared was painting, too. Coming to stand behind him, Brandon watched for a few minutes as the younger man worked concentrated. Brandon had no words to describe the painting. Like the other piece, this was otherworldly beautiful and so classic and magnificent that even though Jared painted a detail of the room, it still looked like something taken out of another concept.

“I can’t get into my head why you haven’t been discovered yet, Jared,” Brandon said softly.

“Maybe I didn’t want to,” Jared replied even softer. 

The day moved on. Students came and went, but the image of Jared and Brandon engrossed in their blossoming infatuation with each other stayed the same. To Brandon, it was a blessing from the moment Jared had stepped into his life yesterday. A true talented artist with no money on his hands, and a profound need to work his art but lacking the basic fundament to be able to express himself. 

Brandon had fallen in love in that second. He just knew it and, as he quietly walked around and helped where he was needed, Brandon ended up with a sketchbook at his own easel, drawing Jared as he painted him wearing the loincloth he’d imagined him wearing in his mind all day. Then he drew details of Jared’s body; his torso, particularly minding sexually aroused nipples. Brandon got a hard on and came back to reality when a student tried to get his attention. Most of the students had left, and the evening was full blown. Jared wasn’t working at the easel anymore; in fact, he wasn’t in the shop any longer.

“Where is Jared?” he asked.

“Who?” the student asked, looking generally confused.

“ _Ja-red_...” Brandon repeated as if the kid was slow. “The artist who painted _that_ today.” Getting up, Brandon went to the easel Jared had worked on today, but the painting wasn’t there anymore. “Did he take it with him?”

“Seriously, Brandon, don’t you think you should go home and sleep? No one has painted on that easel today, and I’ve been here most of the day.”

“Don’t be ridiculous! I came with Jared to the shop today.”

“Goodnight, Brandon,” the kid just said and left.

Brandon felt like he’d gotten a bucket of cold water all over himself. He hurried the rest of the students out while looking for the first painting Jared made at the same time, but he couldn’t find that, either. After closing up the shop, he practically ran home, scared out of his mind what had happened. Slowing down when he reached the front door, he looked up and put both trembling hands on his burning cheeks when he saw lights in the window of his study. Well, _someone_ was home. He could see Jared’s shadowy movements behind the curtain.

Trying to catch his breath, Brandon put the key in the key slot with shaking hands and turned. Pressing his eyes shut, he sent a prayer to the god he didn’t believe in before he opened the door. He left the keys on a dresser, and slowly approached his study where the light came from. 

When he got in there, the room was empty. However, Iofiel stood on Brandon’s desk, so somebody had been in there. Quickly, Brandon went to see if something had happened to him. In disbelief, he noticed Iofiel had paint on his hip: a small spot but there nevertheless. Worry was exchanged for anger as Brandon went in search for Jared. Reaching the hall, he heard the shower being turned on upstairs, so he went to have a ‘talk’.

Opening the shower stall forcefully, he yelled, “I told you never to touch my angels.”

“I didn’t!” Jared looked indignantly back at him, scrubbing his hip that proved to have a stain of paint, too.

Brandon watched for a few seconds until his brain had fed him the information he needed. Iofiel had paint the exact same place.

“One of my angels was on my desk. It can’t have been anyone else, Jared. You were in my study. Don’t deny it. It has paint on it!”

“I didn’t touch your fucking angels!” Jared bit back.

“You took him out, Jared. Why? I told you specifically not to touch them...”

“I never even breathed on any of your angels. Don’t you fucking listen to me?” Jared hissed back.

“One of them is outside the fucking cage! Admit you took it!”

“I’ve never touched your fucking angels!” Jared was screaming back at him, and stepping out of the stall.

“He was in the glass case when we left this morning, and now he’s on my desk,” Brandon continued, but Jared just stared at him as water dripped down his naked body.

Pointing at him with an almost venomous expression, Brandon returned to the study only to find Iofiel back in the glass case. 

“WHAT!!!” Crying in shock, he looked at Iofiel, and then he stepped closer, almost afraid of the answer he knew he would find there. When he was close enough, he gasped softly. The stain had disappeared, once more leaving Iofiel immaculate. His beautiful eyes looked calmly and mildly accusingly at him. Guilt filled, Brandon ran back upstairs, and barged into the stall once more.

“What are you doing? Why is he back?”

“What am _I_ doing?!” Jared asked incredulous. “I’m going to bed. That’s what I’m doing. You’re overreacting. Don’t follow me,” he added. 

Brandon yelled in frustration, as Jared’s bedroom door was slammed. Slowly, he went back to the study and, heavy at heart, he went to stand in front of the glass case, staring at Iofiel on the shelf. 

“I’m going insane!” Brandon gasped, as he raked his fingers through his hair. Iofiel’s expression wasn’t much help. “Well, you didn’t exactly remove the paint yourself, did you? And you _did_ have a stain!” Brandon argued, pointing at the figurine. “Did you really have a strain?” he asked, putting his hands on his hips. The soft hair moved and Brandon turned his attention back to Jared upstairs. Wiping his face, he went to the hall and looked up. He had to ask Jared. Something wasn’t right here, and he’d ignored it for too long. Everything had screamed super natural ever since Jared survived that car accident. Jared just wasn’t normal. 

Swallowing, Brandon took a step at the time. At last, he stood in front of Jared’s door. “Jared?” he asked.

“What?”

“Can I come in?”

“What. Do. You. Want?”

“Please. Let me apologise.”

Hearing the bedsprings make a noise, Brandon closed his eyes and, a moment later, the door was opened. They just looked at each other.

“I’m sorry. Iofiel’s where he’s supposed to be. You were right. I must have imagined things. I seem to do that a lot these days.”

“Okay.” Jared shrugged.

“Why did you disappear without telling me?” 

“I... didn’t want to disturb you and left when you went to work on your own stuff.”

“I wanted to work on you. Do you...” Brandon stopped, embarrassed, and hid his face in his hands. He lifted his hair in frustration. “Where are your paintings?” Brandon asked. The usual distraction kicked in as he saw Jared’s hard nipples and the goose flesh that had appeared all over his moist skin. Finally, his eyes graced Jared’s semi hard sex. 

“I took the paintings with me. If they’re as good as you claim, I didn’t wanna risk anybody stealing them.”

“You left paint on Iofiel when you got home.” Brandon put a hand under Jared’s fine but sharply chiselled chin. “I’m sure it was an accident.” He could tell that Jared was going to object to that, too, so he quickly shut him off by pressing a kiss to his lips. 

Immediately, Jared pressed back and held on to Brandon’s arms before he slipped his hands down and grabbed Brandon’s.

They parted and Jared pulled him into the room. “I have no clue who Iofiel is, Brandon, but your rambles are part of who you are, and I find that very sexy. Now, take your clothes off.”

“God, yes!” Brandon grabbed Jared’s shoulders, but the younger man slipped into his arms, and the feel of his warm, naked body ignited his need for tenderness.

Giving in to soft kisses and sure hands undressing him, Brandon ended up in Jared’s bed slipping on top of him. Laboured breaths mingled as they looked into each other’s eyes. Jared pressed open-mouthed kisses to his face and lips. Brandon whispered to him, “You being here makes sense, okay? This is good for me.”

“I know. Me, too. So very much. You need me.”

“I’ve needed you. Needed you so badly. Need you more than you need me. I know this,” Brandon confessed. 

Jared smiled looking into his brown eyes. “Hey! Don’t cry now. It’s a turn off, man. And don’t be stupid. I need you, too.”

Brandon grinned but tears managed to slip down his temples. “It’s embarrassing that I find you so sexy, isn’t it?”

“No. It’s flattering,” Jared responded, as he leaned in and kissed him. Kissed the tears. 

Brandon let his hands run down and over the small hips, cupping them in his palms, desire filling his body. Pressing up, their groins met and Jared spread his legs, inviting Brandon to come closer where after he slung his legs around him, embracing Brandon tightly with his entire body. 

Both their cocks were so wet and slick with precome when they played their sensual game of smearing their shafts to slide better in their hands. Brandon took a better grasp of himself and painted the copious fluids along Jared’s crack, distributing and teasing him mercilessly. 

Reaching out, Brandon shuffled through the contents of the bedside drawer and found the hand cream.

He added his fingers one at the time to prepared Jared before he pressed inside him.

Immediately, Jared tried to spread his thighs some more. Holding Brandon close with one arm across his back, he pressed his body nearer, embracing him tighter. “I need to feel you, Brandon. But easy, okay?” Jared murmured.

The burning sensation of Brandon inching inside him was invigorating. Then the slow slide into his body followed, the gradual friction creating all the best of sensations... Oh, Jared’s body was floating and his lips slid all over Brandon’s face. 

“Love this...” he whispered, passionately. 

Brandon set a faster pace, and Jared groaned as pleasure built up faster and faster. “Yes, fuck me, fuck me,” he demanded. “Faster.” 

Brandon broke free of Jared’s tight hold and moved his hips harder, the thrusts sending hot sparks through Jared’s body gathering in his groin. When semen covered his stomach in hot spurts, he cried out. 

Jared’s breath was catching as he calmed down. 

After Brandon pulled out, he lay on Jared’s body, and felt his heart beat racing in the same fast cadence as his own. 

Jared held him possessively, and Brandon liked that.

“You’re fired, Jared,” Brandon whispered.

Jared chuckled a little. “I figured as much. I can’t cook shit anyway.”

“Did you come by the way?” he asked, and Brandon began laughing.

“Yeah, I came, Jared. Can’t you tell?” 

They snickered as their hands soon travelled over their bodies to pull closer. Jared put his head on Brandon’s chest. “You’re so skinny but your muscles are very defined. You have a gorgeous body.”

“Thanks... I think,” Brandon smiled, “and you’re an interesting riddle. Pay your rent with more paintings. I’m begging you to paint, Jared.”

“Yeah, I can do that, but can we just sleep now?”

“All right, but tomorrow...”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jared yawned. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“I mean it...” Brandon said, but Jared was already asleep. 

Brandon watched his angelic face. The long eyelashes gave the illusion of resting on his high cheekbones. His mouth was sinful, and Brandon just had to smile. 

_Angels are not as immaculate as people think. They’re sin in the flesh when you get to know them better._

Then he wriggled down, placing Jared’s head on his shoulder instead, and kissed his sleeping mouth for a while before he buried his face in his neck and fell asleep.

☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼

The next morning, Brandon awoke alone. Sitting up, he was filled with worry. “Jared?” he called out, but he got no reply. Despising his own distrust, Brandon went to his study right away, but nothing was missing. Iofiel and every other angel were in their usual place, but where was Jared? Brandon went to take a shower. Maybe Jared had gone for a jog. He would be back soon then. After putting on a robe, Brandon went to the kitchen and sighed in relief when he saw the note.

_Gone shopping. The fridge was empty! Found some cash in a kitchen drawer. Hope you don’t mind. J._

Sitting on a chair, Brandon patiently waited for Jared to return. Then he heard noise at the door, and he went and opened it with a huge smile on his face; a smile that quickly weakened. 

“Oh... it’s you.” 

Jason cocked his head. “What’s the matter? Did you expect someone else?”

“What do you want?” Brandon asked business like.

“I haven’t seen or heard from you in a while. I was wondering if you’d come with me on a hot date?”

“It’s 9 am in the morning, Jason. Why are you here at this hour?”

“I told you!”

“I heard you, but...”

“Can I come in?” Jason pushed past Brandon who sighed. 

“...sure. Why don’t you?”

“Who were you expecting? You sure look disappointed,” Jason interrupted. Glancing at Brandon’s study, he shuddered when he caught a glimpse of the angels in there before he proceeded to the kitchen.

“Jason... look.” Brandon came into the kitchen, but his little brother already stood with Jared’s note in his hand.

“Who is... _J_?” he asked.

“Slow down, Jason,” Brandon said and quickly stole the note out of his brother’s hand.

“Girl or boy?” Jason asked, intrigued.

“He’s a boy,” a voice said from the door. The brothers turned and saw the beauty that was all Jared. He was dressed in shorts, a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off, and sandals. He came in carrying some shopping bags in his arms. He went to put them on the counter along with the change. 

“I’ll see you at the shop, Mr. Boyd. Later,” he said. Both Jason and Brandon’s eyes were helplessly glued to the golden tanned legs and how alluringly his ass filled out those shorts, as Jared went for the door and left the house.

“Wow...” Jason moaned distractedly, but Brandon shook his head, his robe fluttering after him as he began putting groceries away in the cupboards and fridge.

“No date.”

“C’mon, you can bring that pretty little thing along any time for all I care...” Jason argued.

“He’s my student!” Brandon protested, but just one look from his brother, and he had no chance in hell to convince him of that. More importantly, Brandon didn’t know why he tried to pretend Jared was not a lover. Perhaps it was too unreal yet.

“Bran... when you’ve had a shower and washed off the sex scent, _then_ I promise to take you seriously and pretend I believe you.”

“Sex scent?” Brandon rolled his eyes, “That was a cheap shot, Jason. I’m not gonna expose him to you yet.”

“Too late, don’t you think? So, is he somebody?”

“Just leave. I’m late.”

“So we have a date tonight?”

“No.”

“We don’t have a date?”

“Yes. NO! Oh, stop it,” Brandon objected.

“I’ll pick you guys up at seven. He’s sex on legs,” Jason just managed to say before Brandon slammed the door in his face.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Brandon cursed his brother. “This is happening too fast.” And once more, Brandon realised he hadn’t had a chance to talk to Jared about how fucked up everything was rapidly becoming. Turning he went back to the kitchen. More curses flowed from his lips because Jason had robbed him of a nice morning with Jared.

☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼

Twenty minutes later, the phone rang. When Brandon picked it up, he saw it was the number for the shop. “Brandon Boyd speaking.”

“It’s me,” Jared’s voice filled his ear. “Aren’t you coming over?”

“I’m on my way. I missed you,” Brandon whispered.

“Don’t even start,” Jared murmured, “I’m sure people will notice if I have phone sex around here,” he teased in that raspy tone that spoke to Brandon’s cock. Oh, Brandon was so turned on just like that.

“Jared,” he said again, closing his eyes, just wanting to hear his voice. He could recite the phonebook for all Brandon cared.

“Just get here fast,” Jared pleaded.

Brandon was going to say something more, but Jared disconnected. Now, Brandon was actually on his way when Jared called, so he took the car right away.

As soon as he got there, Brandon surveyed the room. The usual kids who came early were already busy with their projects. Jared sat on the counter drinking coffee.

Smiling, he went to him and sought a place for himself between Jared’s thighs, as he put his hands on his slender hips. “Hey,” he murmured. His brown eyes shone with contentment. Jared’s blue ones responded just as hotly.

“How may I serve you?” he said, cocking his head.

“I’m fine. Had coffee at home. Thanks for shopping by the way,” Brandon said.

“Don’t mention it,” Jared replied softly, but he was anything but soft.

Brandon felt the tension in his thighs as Jared squeezed him a little closer to his crotch. His hands snaked around Brandon’s neck until Brandon decided they had displayed enough affection. The room had once more become quiet and when he extricated himself, the students were busy returning their attention to their work. 

Brandon slipped out of the embrace and made his first round to assist his students. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Jared jump down from the counter and pick out a fresh canvas. 

“Who is he?” a student inquired.

“A genius,” Brandon grinned. “He started yesterday.”

“I know. I saw his work. Is he your boyfriend?” 

Brandon sensed how heat coloured his cheeks at that question, but he felt good replying, “I hope so.” Eventually, he reached Jared and as always, his work blew Brandon away. He stood behind him and embraced him, resting his chin on Jared’s shoulder. 

“You like it?” Jared asked as he finished a few strokes.

“Very much. What is it?” he grinned.

Jared grinned, too. “It’s a duck.”

“Oh, right,” Brandon said. What it was was he and Jared in an intimate situation. Jared hadn’t painted them the way they looked, but the situation was recognisable. “My brother wants to go out with us tonight. Would you like to go?”

“For sure. Who’s paying?”

“Oh, he is. He’s the one who needs it. Not me.”

“Fine.” Jared turned his head and nodded. “We can go.” Then he focused on the painting, and Brandon kissed his neck and let go of him. 

Going to his desk, Brandon had a bit of writing to do, so the morning went pretty fast. 

“You mind borrowing me some money. I didn’t quite have breakfast...” Brandon looked up and Jared sat on the desk.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Jared.” He got up and grabbed his wallet. “People eat whenever they want. I don’t have food around the place. I’m too distracted and it can get disgusting in an unattended fridge, so I got rid of it.”

“I noticed the state of the one at home.” Jared smiled.

Brandon shrugged smiling back. “Sorry about that. I skipped breakfast, too. Let’s grab a sandwich. There’s a sandwich bar close by.”

After doing their purchases, they decided to head back to the studio but weren’t in a hurry. Eating slowly, Brandon darted looks at Jared once in a while. The wind grabbed the brown locks and he wanted to play with them, but he had other matters on his mind, too. “Can we talk?”

Jared shrugged. “Sure. Not like I can prevent you, can I?” Sipping on a can of coke, he looked back at Brandon.

“This is all happened very fast. As if I soaked you into my life from a daydream or something. You’re just the way I like it. You look the way I want you to, and you even have more skills than I could ever dream of accomplishing.”

“Well, I’ve been horny for your ass, too, ever since I saw you.”

“So you do remember stepping into the shop before showing up at my door yesterday?”

Jared looked away. “No. That’s not what I meant. I’ve been attracted to you from a far. As a fan. As an artist, Brandon. So maybe I was just self guiding and that’s how I found you.”

“You didn’t quite answer my question, Jared.”

“I didn’t?” Jared smiled at him and then looked away once more. “You’re exactly how I imagined you would be.” Opening up his arms, he gestured in general movements what he thought about Brandon. “I came here to improve myself, but I’m not looking for a career as an artist, remember?”

“No, but you could be one.”

“So you keep telling me,” Jared replied.

“Hollywood lets in few people. It’ll be easier to pass through the eye of a needle.”

“Well, good thing I’m a small guy, then.”

“Jared... what happened in that car accident?”

Jared slowed down a little before he stopped completely. Dangling his can of coke between two fingers, he said, “I honestly don’t remember.”

Brandon observed him. Jared looked directly at him. He didn’t blink, his eyes weren’t dilating or darting anywhere else in search of fabricating a lie or anything. He was telling the truth.

“Okay. Let’s go with that. You came looking for me in the shop. We had a nice evening getting to know each other. I fell for you then, okay? Then I drove you home. You didn’t want me to drop you off where you were staying, which the neighbourhood taken into consideration wasn’t exactly a shocker, so I didn’t. 

‘Shortly after, “the accident” happened. When I got there, the description of the victim matched you, but you had disappeared from the crime scene. The driver knew he’d hit you pretty hard, so how was that possible?” 

Jared looked distressed at the news. “I-I don’t know, Brandon. Okay?”

“The next day, you show up at my house, confusing the hell out of me when you actually showed some scratches. But you acted as if we’d never met. So... I don’t know if it’s okay; if you’re okay.” Brandon shrugged.

“Brandon, I don’t even remember sitting in your car. I can’t answer your questions.”

Brandon reached for him and they embraced carefully, avoiding staining each other’s clothes with their food. Lifting his face, Jared looked into Brandon’s eyes, and the taller man pecked his lips with a little smile. 

“But the more I want to talk about it, the less I understand and...” 

The lethargy wrapped Brandon in once more, the not really caring if he got the answers or not. Jared always seemed indifferent about. To him, it didn’t matter if the mystery was solved, and the importance slipped through Brandon’s fingers.

He kissed Jared much firmer before he remembered they were standing in public. He wasn’t concerned about being photographed kissing Jared. As an artist, flamboyance was a part of the game, and he’d been in the papers kissing guys before. He just didn’t like to make a spectacle of their relationship. 

By now, they were close to the shop, so Brandon grabbed Jared's hand.

Jared dumped the rest of his sandwich in a bin. “Too much mayo,” he complained. “So what are you saying? Are you gonna make me see a doctor?”

“No... honestly, you seem fine to me,” Brandon said. “Would you like to though?”

“I think we know the answer to that one. If I feel funny, I’ll let you know. Then I’ll see a doc,” Jared said and crossed his heart, making Brandon smile. 

Brandon dumped his own food and, after wiping his hands and mouth in a napkin, he grabbed Jared’s face and kissed him some more before they entered the shop.

☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼

“You wanna change your clothes? And where did you get those from by the way? You said you didn’t have any stuff.”

“I don’t. These are yours,” Jared smirked. 

They were back home. Jason had texted Brandon with reservation info and they were getting ready to go. 

Brandon embraced Jared, feeling high on the love he felt for the beautiful man in his arms. “You went through my things?”

“No, just the laundry.”

“You did my laundry?”

“No, Brandon. I just went through it.”

“You’re wearing my dirty laundry?”

“Brandon!” Jared laughed, “Why are you so dense? You have piles of clean laundry needing folding or something. I found this in between them.”

“I’m an artist. I get easily distracted. _You_ make me easily distracted. I have no idea what we’re talking about.” 

Brandon caught Jared’s smiling lips in a deep passionate kiss. “I’m mostly in the mood to cancel and just crawl into bed with you,” he moaned a little.

“It would be best...” Jared managed to utter in between delicious kisses, “...to get the formal introduction over with. Then we can go home and even skip the bed and violate your floor instead. I’ll let you do naughty things to me all night.”

“Great,” Brandon said. “That’s not gonna make me particularly more enthusiastic to not cancel and stay home.”

“I’ll have to wear my own pants tonight, though, but I can fit one of your shirts just fine.”

“We’re gonna have to get you new stuff... I’ve said that before... like lots of times,” Brandon grinned. “Jared... where were you staying exactly before?”

“I wasn’t staying anywhere.”

“Living on the street?”

“Close enough.”

“No wonder you didn’t want me to see your ‘place’.”

“Well...” Jared went to Brandon’s bedroom and went through the clean clothes once more. 

Brandon came to look at him. “We’re a bit early, I have a few minor things I want check before we go. I’ll be in the study.”

“Oh...” Jared said, looking surprised. “Um... okay. Take your time.”

Brandon just smiled. “I’ll be right back.” 

Jared looked a little funny in the face, but Brandon had guessed that he, just like his brother, wasn’t comfortable about the angels. It still irked him somewhat that Jared wouldn’t admit he’d touched Iofiel, but then he remembered that Iofiel had moved from his desk and to the shelf all by himself and Jared hadn’t been near the room while that happened. 

Scratching his head, Brandon realised he’d deliberately forgotten about that super natural happening. Determinedly, he went to the study and positioned himself in front of the delicate innocence. 

“You’re doing this on purpose.” Brandon pointed at Iofiel. “Are you playing match maker? Well, you can stop it. I’m Jared’s boyfriend now. Maybe I should cancel the date tonight?” 

Iofiel’s eyes seemed intense, tempestuous, so Brandon took his own suggestion as a bad sign. He smiled and grabbed the little figurine. Kissing the top of the soft hair his eyes darted lower and dirty thoughts flittered through his mind at the sight of the fine pubic hair. Smirking, Brandon tickled the tiny penis and set Iofiel back on his spot. “That’ll teach ya!” 

Going to his desk, he opened his logbook. He wrote a few paragraphs about the super natural happenings the last few days. He derived no conclusion from it. It was a riddle, but he was utterly intrigued.

“Brandon?”

“Yeah?” Brandon looked up.

Jason stood in the door. “Well, are you ready?”

“Sure. We both are.”

“Both?”

Brandon nodded. “Me and Jared. That’s two.” He stuck up two fingers for graphcs.

“Fuck. I already have a date for you.”

“Well, send ‘it’ home.”

Jason frowned. “Not a chance. Who’s your date again?”

Brandon had a sense of déjà vu. “Don’t tell me you don’t remember him!” _Please..._ He recalled the other student who hadn’t had a clue about Jared being present in the studio yesterday, but that could be because that particular student was pretty much in a world of his own when he worked on the studio

That seemed to go around with artists. Nevertheless, for a few seconds, he had feared Jared had been an illusion. That some other super natural happening had occurred and that he had been the only one seeing Jared. Then he shook his head. No, Jared had guided some of the students. He hadn’t made it all up. However, it had become difficult to rely on his own sanity these few days.

“You saw him yesterday.”

Jason laughed softly, but in an annoying way. “If I recall correctly, he was ‘a pretty little thing’.”

“Jared??!” Brandon called, but there was no answer. Looking at his brother, he asked, “Didn’t you see him when you came just now?”

“In here?”

Brandon just looked patiently at his younger brother who approached his glass case with that look of disgust mixed with fascination on his face he always had when he eyed the angels. “No. No Jared,” he said, preoccupied.

Brandon got up and went upstairs. “Jared?” he asked, but he couldn’t find him there. “Fuck.” Then he returned downstairs and found his brother waiting. 

“Well, where is he? Is he hiding from me?” Jason teased.

“I don’t know,” Brandon snapped, not being in the mood. Going outside, he finally found Jared standing against the wall. “Didn’t you hear me call?” he asked, incredulous.

“No. Sorry,” Jared smiled and went to him. “Are we ready?”

Brandon forced himself to calm down and drive the upsetting thoughts away. Jared was here and tangible. Then he smiled broadly when he saw Jared wearing one of his black silk shirts. 

“You look gorgeous,” he said and embraced him. Murmuring into his ear, Brandon asked, “Are you wearing my underwear, too?”

“Who says I’m wearing any?” Jared replied, and was rewarded with a little sexy moan from his lover.

“Bran,” Jason said as he joined them. “The other date is in the car. Could you turn the charm down?”

“Sure,” Brandon said and kissed Jared’s lips in a series of small wet pecks.

“Anytime, Brandon.”

“Fuck off, Jason! You haven’t even said hi to Jared!”

“Hi, Jason,” Jared said with a mildly amused expression on his face.

“Hi, Jared. Now can we go?” Jason said.

When they got to the car, a pair of gorgeous twins met them on the back seat. 

“Who do you think you are?” Brandon asked, “Fucking Hugh Hefner or something?”

“I had set my hopes high,” Jason said, looking disappointed.

“For what? Group sex? Partner switch?” One look at Jared and Brandon could tell he wasn’t expecting this. “Don’t worry Jared. Bim and Bo are not included in our plans.”

“The hell they are. I can handle them both,” Jason exclaimed.

“Handle?” Brandon rolled his eyes. 

One of the girls pointed at Jared. “Is he the famous artist?” she asked looking hungrily at Jared.

“No, this is Brandon Boyd,” Jason said putting his hand on Brandon’s shoulder.

“Oh...” was all she said in response. 

Brandon’s eyes sent daggers at Jason. “Why don’t you drive these ladies, and I’ll take Jared in my car? Such fun we’re gonna have.”

Jason shrugged. “No problem. See you there.”

“This is asking for a disaster, Brandon,” Jared said.

“We’ll see,” Brandon said. Fetching the car from garage, he parked along the pavement and Jared took the passenger seat. 

“I’ve been in this seat before,” Jared then said.

“You remember it?”

“No. But I’m sure I’ve sat right here.”

“That’s great news. Do you...”

“No. I don’t recall the accident. That’s what you wanted to say, right?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry about it. It’ll surface when it surfaces.”

Jared looked at him, and slowly a little smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Well, let’s go!”

Jason had gotten them a table in one of their favourite jazz clubs. The band performing tonight played the kind of funk they both liked. A light plate was served as dinner, which suited the girls fine, but afterwards, Jared whispered he was still hungry.

“We’ll grab some man food later,” Brandon replied. The evening was pretty much predictable. Bim was constantly trying to seduce Jared, and Bo was glued to Jason’s lap. 

Normally, Brandon would have been the lamb to the slaughter but since the girl had set her target on Jared, Brandon was safe tonight. She didn’t catch the drift at any point that Jared wasn’t interested and finally Brandon had reached his limit. 

“You’re doing this on purpose, Jason... Why?” Brandon asked when Jared went to the men’s room and the girls to the ladies’. “Is it because you don’t like Jared?”

“I could eat him with a spoon, Brandon, or I’d devour him whole,” Jason said slowly, pulling a long drag at his cigarette.

Brandon digested his words for a few seconds before he had processed the full intention behind his brother’s words. “He’s mine, Jason,” Brandon said, testily.

“Yeah, unfortunately so.”

The brothers looked at each other for a while, and then Jason shrugged. “Fuck it. I’m going home with the twins tonight.”

Brandon nodded.

“Why is it different now, Bran? What’s the big deal? We’ve always had fun discussing our stupid horny dates.”

“Because that’s what they were. Stupid, horny dates, but Jared is my boyfriend.”

Jason narrowed his eyes. It was like he only now realised what Brandon was saying. “Fuck, I’m sorry, Bran. Forgive me. I’ve just never seen you going steady from one date to the other. It sounded too good to be true.”

Brandon nodded. “You’re forgiven. Just keep your stupid remarks to yourse...”

“Hey, I’m not even gonna think about Jared in a dirty way. I’m not into guys. You know I’m not, but...” Jason shrugged helplessly.

“I know what you mean. Jared can make even the straightest guy cross the straight line.”

“Well, if I did the fucking...”

“Which you’re not,” Brandon pointed out, sternly.

“Which I’m not...” Jason repeated with a little smirk. 

As if on cue, the others returned to the table. Brandon strategically positioned himself between Jared and Bim, and Bo sat between Jared and Jason. Jared sent him dirty messages all through the band’s second session, tightening his thigh muscles, or letting his arm and fingers brush against Brandon’s. It was nice, it was sexy, and Brandon hardly paid attention to the band. He was busy imagining pushing inside Jared’s body.

A young man came to their table asking for an autograph. Brandon smiled agreeably. Jason gave one, too, and soon everyone gave the kid an autograph. Curiously, Brandon watched as Jared wrote his. He couldn’t decipher the scrawl.

“Is that an artist name?” he asked. 

“I suppose so,” Jared grinned, “but it’s just my middle name.”

“Which is?” Brandon prompted intrigued.

“Iosephios.”

“What did you say?” Brandon quirked his eyebrow. Honestly, he heard that as _Iofiel_. 

Jared quickly explained, “It’s my version of spelling Joseph in Greek. My artistic signature.”

“Ah... nice. And very artistic,” Brandon said, feeling a little ridiculous, but Jared reminded him so much of Iofiel sometimes it was uncanny.

“Thanks. It’s fascinating where people come from originally.”

“You originate from Greece?” Brandon asked interested and then pointed at Jason. “We’re from Scotland,” Brandon grinned and pointed at Jason who lazily looked back. Brandon suspected he had his hand buried somewhere intimately - if Bo’s absent eyes were any indication. 

“No, not particularly... Would it turn you on if I was?” Jared said, seductively.

“In Greek Antiquity you would have. In modern times... I’m not so sure,” Brandon teased.

“But I’d be all naked, Brandon...” Jared inched closer, “wrestling you in the local Gymnasium with my cock practically resting in your mouth.”

“I don’t think that’s a position approved by the Olympic Games Committee or whatever they call themselves.”

“We’ll just conduct our own Olympic Games at home,” Jared said, sucking Brandon’s earlobe into his warm mouth a few times, awakening his arousal, blissfully.

Brandon stopped breathing as he looked up. Everybody was looking at them, including the kid with the autographbook who then wisely left.

Clearing his throat, Brandon sat up and shot Jason a glance. His brother was snogging Bo, and Bim looked eager to participate but not quite sure which couple to ask.

“What?” Jared asked.

“It’s not really polite to exclude me,” she complained.

Brandon interfered saying, “For your information, I’m here to have a good time with Jared. Who Jason decided to bring is his business, so I suggest you stand in his line for a sample of whatever he’s willing to share.”

“Well said, Bran,” Jason said.

“Give it a rest, bro. You knew I’d bring Jared, so you tricked the girls into believing one of them would get me as a date, but you just want them all to yourself!” Brandon argued.

“Maybe the ‘girls’ like it that way!” Bim said. 

Brandon calmed down and closed his eyes in frustration. “Perhaps we should try getting ourselves another table,” he said and got the waiter’s attention.

Jared picked at his bangs and looked a little bored by the bad chemistry that seemed to build up around the table, but soon they split from Jason and the girls, when they were shown a smaller and more intimate table further away from the stage.

“At last,” they both said and smiled. 

“Now I want to dance with you, Brandon,” Jared said.

“Okay,” Brandon agreed eagerly. They went to the dance floor and Jared immediately melted into Brandon’s arms, hugging him as they moved to the cool music.

Brandon enjoyed that so much. Being in the club, finally able to just let Jared fill him up emotionally, and physically he sensed nothing but him. He found Jared’s eyes resting on his, and he had to express how he made him feel. Some things became clearer to him all of a sudden. “You know, there are weeks perhaps months in between I invite a completely stranger home for casual sex.

Jared nodded and encouraged him to go on, but his eyes were alert, and his hands grasping a little harder on Brandon’s hips.

“But you turned me on when I saw you. I would even say that my _soul_ recognised yours and I trust that much more instead of sitting around rationalising my instincts. Does it make any sense?” Brandon asked.

Jared looked stunned and as if caught by surprise but finally, he said, “It does... We must have come across each other in previous lives. Often enough for me to feel I just knew I had to knock on your door, Brandon. I was absolutely sure when I picked your house.”

“Thank God you did,” Brandon said kissing Jared’s hair and then his beautiful lips. His hand stroked Jared’s hair and his cheek.

Jared smiled back, looking like he enjoyed what Brandon told him. “Let’s go home,” Jared said.

☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼

At home, they sat in the car for a while. Little smiles on their faces as they anticipated the amazing sex they were soon going to have.

Brandon leaned over and kissed Jared hungrily. 

“Why don’t you get inside and I’ll lock the car up?” he asked when they parted.

Jared nodded and took the house keys from Brandon.

Brandon was still smiling as he left the car and stepped inside the house. As usual, he put the car keys on the counter and rolling his eyes, he knew he had to go looking for Jared. Almost a ‘usual’, too.

“Jared, where are you?”

“In here.”

The sound came from his study. A little surprised he’d find him there Brandon stepped into the room. Seeing Jared standing in front of the glass case - for a few seconds, Brandon wondered what he was doing. Then he realised that Iofiel was missing. 

Before he could react to that, something happened. “Holy SHIT!” he cried out as Jared disappeared before his very eyes. What he then saw was the small figurine appearing neatly on his place in the display cabinet, but Jared had vanished. Had he been there at all? It shouldn’t be possible.

“Oh, God,” Brandon whispered hoarsely, adrenaline pumped through his veins of fear. He approached Iofiel and looked intensely at him. “What did you do!” he shouted his demand. “What the fuck did you do to him!?”

Grabbing his hair, he choked, “I can’t take this shit anymore!” Reaching out he grabbed Iofiel but his hands shook so much that he knocked him down from the shelf instead and screaming Brandon watched Iofiel fall to the floor and break apart.

In the utter silence that followed his outcry, Brandon stared at the floor. Iofiel was broken and Brandon instantly saw there was no way his skills would ever be able to repair him. “Iofiel... Where is he?” Brandon pleaded, as he sank to his knees.

Then he jerked violently, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning he stared incomprehensible at the person behind him. 

“Jesus fucking CHRIST!” Brandon’s already hysteric heartbeat went up a notch as he gazed at the naked young man looking at him. It was Iofiel... but a rather human and naked version of him. The long wavy locks, the fine pubic hair, and the intense eyes. It was all there in the flesh.

“Where are your wings?” Brandon finally croaked.

“They don’t actually have wings. They’re just something humans made up to make us look hot,” Iofiel joked... in Jared’s voice. 

Brandon got up and found his glasses on the desk. When he put them on he saw that it was just Jared. Not Iofiel. Closing his eyes in relief for a few moments, Brandon just tried to calm down and be glad his eyes once more just had played another trick on him.

“Would you finally talk to me?” Brandon asked.

“I think I’m well enough now to tell you everything I remember,” Jared said.

“Well?

“I would have died that night if it hadn’t been for him,” Jared said and pointed at Iofiel still lying broken on the floor.

Brandon looked fleetingly at the figurine, but he wanted to know everything and nodded encouragingly at Jared.

“He’s nurtured me back to life these past few days. Recovering everything and protecting me. I was hurt so badly.”

“So you’re him?” Brandon asked.

“No. I’m me. I was just confused and mentally somewhere else at times. I was probably brain damaged,” Jared joked. “I would have died in the alley he found me in when I was thrown out of Porq’s home.”

“In that state?” Brandon asked, still feeling upset from the earlier shock.

“Yeah. His girlfriend didn't want me to ‘bleed all over the floor’ as she put it.”

Brandon just stared at him. “This is your explanation?” he asked suspicious.

Jared nodded. “Well, yeah.”

“So, no more supernatural stuff?” 

“Well, you dropped him, didn’t you? I think we’re good. I feel he’s left me.”

“I certainly hope his magic isn’t contained in that piece of porcelain,” Brandon said feeling resigned.

“I couldn't tell you any of this, because I didn't even know it myself.”

“This also explains the old techniques at the workshop, Jared,” Brandon suggested, fishing for information.

“No, they’re still me,” Jared said and smiled, “and still my secrets to keep.”

“How could he even accomplish this without...?” Ah... Brandon saw so many of the super natural occurrences falling into place. Jared and Iofiel were never present at the same spot at any time. He always managed to disappear when Brandon had contact with Iofiel or vice versa, the paint spot ‘Jared’ frantically had tried to remove that also showed on Iofiel because they were the same. Otherwise, it made sense how careful Iofiel had directed this.

“Did he speak to you?” Brandon asked.

“I don't kiss and tell on powerful angels,” Jared said. “We didn’t have actual conversations, but I always knew what was going on. Also, remember that this is just a figurine. When he was helping me the most, I felt him more like a warm presence. I got myself back just a little more each time. I’ve never felt anything like it.”

“No, I can imagine. A heavenly presence that played tricks with my mind, too. Whenever I wanted to about what happened, I forgot the thread just as quickly... a bit like now...” Brandon said and shook his head. So that was Iofiel preventing him from discussing it to prioritise that Jared got better.

“Can we start a fresh, Jared?” Brandon asked.

“I think we should, Brandon,” Jared replied.

Brandon began to smile. Thinking about it, Brandon had to laugh at the thought that he’d had sex with someone who at the time had been partly an angel and not a figment of his dirty imagination. For once, the thought didn’t confuse or freak him out. It was a major turn on. Looking up at his collection, Brandon returned his gaze back to Jared who tugged at his hand.

“Perhaps you should get rid of him?” Jared suggested.

Brandon eyed the little angel but due to sentimental value, he wasn’t ready to throw him away. Maybe he could put back together the pieces and return him to the shelf? Until then, Brandon would just enjoy he finally had Jared in one piece and fully recovered and for that he was grateful.

“No,” he finally decided, as Jared turned his back to Brandon and went to gather the shards.

Brandon gasped aloud. “Oh, God!” 

Jared turned around looking alarmed. “What?” he asked and put the chards on Brandon’s desk. What could possibly have spooked Brandon now?

“Your...” Brandon pointed at him. “Your back, Jared...” He looked accusingly at him.

Jared’s face flushed. “Oh, that? You never noticed?” he asked with a little chuckle.

“No, I’ve never actually seen your backside naked - only your front!” Brandon realised with a huge smile. “My God that’s beautiful, sweet Jesus. Come here.” Jared came back to Brandon and turned his back to him. Brandon’s fingers began to trace the most befitting tattoo he’d ever seen. On Jared’s shoulder blades, the swell of wings sprung imprinted on his entire back. Large beautiful wings that could only indicate what they would have looked like had they been real life wings, like the ones modelled on the shattered figurine.

Brandon hugged him from behind. “So, you do have sexy wings,” he teased.

“Yes, _I_ have wings,” Jared replied. “But then I’m not an angel.”

“Close enough.”

Gathering his naked boyfriend in his arms, Brandon brought him to his bedroom.

Brandon dumped Jared on the mattress on his stomach. “You know I have to paint them at some point, right?”

“I gathered you would have to,” Jared smiled and turned around, his hair covering his face. “Now get undressed,” he demanded.

Pulling off his clothes, Brandon left them in a heap on the floor, then fetched the cream from the drawer, and climbed into bed. His lips crept sensuously over Jared’s throat, gently arousing his lover.

Brandon leaned in closer and just before claiming Jared’s mouth with his own, he felt hands sliding up his chest and coming to rest on his shoulders. Their eyes met, and Brandon mumbled, “...fuck,” then their lips came together in a hot kiss. The willing mouth opened to permit Brandon’s tongue and, for a while, they were content with just that, being in the moment. 

Brandon smiled slightly when he felt Jared’s thighs spread underneath him. The naked yielding body was trying to mould itself to his. Heels hooked under Brandon’s buttocks, and Jared’s cock pressed hot and hard against his body. 

The kiss great in enthusiasm and they laboured to keep their passion at bay just for a few moments longer.

Brandon liked the feel of Jared’s hands on his skin, as they ran through his hair, teasing and kneading rhythmically. When Brandon moved his hand down Jared’s back, delving deep to locate his little pucker, he felt his lover’s body shudder. Breaking the kiss, Brandon squeezed out a dollop of cream and slicked his fingers. Then he returned to circle the smooth skin around Jared’s entrance. 

“So good,” Jared moaned and Brandon had to kiss him again responding in kind, gratified to feel his body press urgently against his finger. Lubing himself up, Brandon was ready for the excited man lying impatiently on the bed waiting to be taken.

“Look at me,” Brandon murmured, and he locked eyes with Jared, erasing all remaining doubts from his mind. Slowly, he began pressing into Jared’s tightness, and the volume of their passion turned up a notch.

For Brandon, to be back inside Jared was intense, heady, and the feeling of being joined as one person had never been this profound. The way he was being hugged close by Jared’s body, how they kissed was so good, and he felt guilty about refusing to believe for even one second in the beauty underneath him. Jared was a very responsive lover, and showed nothing but desire to give that to Brandon. 

Brandon wasn’t sure he even deserved him, but he would not start tearing down what Jared had fought so to survive for, and he accepted everything his lover had to offer.

Jared’s hands were pressing against his ass cheeks urging him to thrust deeper, and he willingly complied. The sounds coming from his smaller lover were barely articulate, and Brandon’s breath gasped out of him loudly as he reached his climax. Jared was following his lead and clenched uncontrollably around Brandon’s cock.

Brandon felt when Jared came, heard the helpless, needy little sighs seconds before he shot his cum between them.

“You’re beautiful,” Brandon whispered, pushing sweaty strands of hair away from Jared’s flushed face.

Jared didn’t say anything but grabbed his hand and kissed his palm.

Pulling out of his lover, Brandon turned them on their side and spooned him, wrapping his longs limbs around him. Pressing his chest against the breathtaking winged tattoo, he smiled into Jared’s neck, smelling the scent of sex on him and smiled. It felt good to fall asleep like this. 

“I love you, Jared,” he said quietly.

“I know. And I love you, too,” Jared responded.

“That’s all I need to know,” Brandon said and closed his eyes in contentment.

☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼ ♥ · ♥ · ♥ · ♥ ☼

Late the next morning, Brandon slipped out of Jared’s arms. After a bathroom visit, he went down to get some coffee. Following his usual routine, he made a few sandwiches and entered his study. The plan was to glue Iofiel together, but the little figurine had taken care if it himself, and was back in the glass cabinet, looking like nothing had happened.

Brandon set down his mug and plate and went to have a look at Iofiel. 

“So... if I dropped you, you would just... self repair?” he asked. Iofiel looked at him with an expressionless gaze for a change, and Brandon decided to do something drastic. 

“I’m sorry, but you’re not welcome anymore,” he told him regrettably. Taking Iofiel down from the shelf, he put him on the desk and found something to wrap him in. Then he put him in a box and closed the lid. 

Checking the clock, he saw that it was already 10am, and he got dressed. He went upstairs to the bedroom and kissed Jared’s cheek. “I’m taking Iofiel for a walk,” he told him.

“Mmmm...” was all Jared said.

Brandon went straight to the flea market where he found Iofiel, and he couldn’t help the ironic expression on his face when he saw recognised the lady who sold the figurine to him,.

Coming up to her, he carefully put the box on her table.

“Here. Take it back. I don’t want it.”

“Wasn’t it what you were looking for?” she asked. 

“I don't know who you are or how you did it. I admit I needed him at the time I bought him, but now I want him out of my life.”

Brandon lifted the lid and unwrapped the contents. Looking closely, his eyebrows lifted in surprise. It wasn’t Iofiel in the box anymore, but a perfect vintage model car. Brandon literally took a step back in surprise.

“As you can see, he already is,” the old lady said and put the lid back on.

Wiping his hand over his mouth, Brandon pointed at the box. “Who are you going to sell the car to?”

“Someone who needs it,” she said and put the box away.

Brandon frowned. There was nothing left for him to do and he turned and walked away. A few steps later he looked back and as he expected, now it was some guy who stood at the table and not the old lady.

Some day he would be able to make sense of all the aspects of the strange experience, but for now he was going home to hopefully a long life with his lover by his side.

End of Tale 24th of January 2009


End file.
